


A Storm Brews in Brooklyn

by lauwerance



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, not really a sickfic but kinda a sickfic?, thunderstorm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-12 23:57:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20573066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lauwerance/pseuds/lauwerance
Summary: “Higgins, what are you doing here?” Spot hissed. “You oughta be in Manhattan right now!” Race grinned, hair dripping in his eyes.“Well then I wouldn’t get to be here to say hi, Spotty.” he said, still shivering.





	A Storm Brews in Brooklyn

Spot wove between the beds of the Brooklyn lodging house. Thunder rumbled outside as newsies milled about inside; there was a general quiet murmuring as they talked amongst themselves and moved around each other with comfortable familiarity. Spot had made it his personal business, as a good king of Brooklyn should, to make sure all the youngest kids of Brooklyn were alright while the storm raged on outside. He knew all too well how some newsies could react to the loud noises and flashes of light that accompanied every storm. He had a few of his birdies checking on them, too. Since it was late, he had them stay with one of the little kids until they fell asleep, and then they would move on to the next one. He was particularly proud of himself for coming up with the whole system. 

Spot had almost finished his rounds and was coming up on one of the last kids, a nine year old by the name of Ben. He was sitting up in his bed, knees drawn up to his chest and arms around his legs. 

“Heya Ben,” Spot said, coming to sit on the edge of the kid’s cot and patting his arm. “How ya doin’?” he asked. Ben smiled, visibly relaxing at the sight of Spot. 

“I’m alright, jus’ a little cold.” Spot cocked his head to one side. Sometimes it was just as hard to get the younger boys to talk to him as it was with the older ones, but he persisted nonetheless.

“That’s all?” Spot asked again. Ben frowned a little and stared hard at an invisible spot on his blanket and shrugged. Lightning flashed outside the windows and thunder followed, making Ben flinch.

“It’s a little loud, I guess.” he admitted. He turned his big green eyes on Spot. “You sure we’re safe in here?” he worried, and Spot couldn’t help but smile. He would never admit it, not outloud, but he had always been a little soft for the youngsters. They were cute and curious and willing to learn and eager to please; what wasn’t to like? 

“Yeah, we’ll be ok. The lodgin’ house is real sturdy, ’s been here longer than you been alive.” he said, nodding wisely as he spoke. Ben nodded to.

“I guess that’s ok then.” he said with as much wisdom in his voice as a nine year old could muster, and Spot had to hold back a little laugh. He gave Ben’s arm one last pat.

“I’ll ask Shoelace to bring ya another blanket so you don’t get too cold.” he promised. Ben smiled and murmured a “thanks, Spot” as he shuffled down under his current blanket and lay down. Spot stood up, ready to move on to the next kid when he heard someone call his name from behind. He turned to find one of his birdies, Sunny, jogging over to him. Spot arched an eyebrow. He had had the other boy stationed near the door, so if he was here it meant that someone had left or someone wanted to come in. 

“What is it?” he said, immediately cutting to the chase. Sunny jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. 

“Someone’s been poundin’ on the door, but I can’t hear what they’re sayin an’ I figured I should get you since we’s got all o’ ours in here.” he explained in a rush. That was why Spot had made Sunny a birdie in the first place. He explained everything quickly and managed to not leave anything out. That, and he was and excellent sharpshooter with a slingshot. Spot narrowed his eyes and gave a short nod.

“Let’s go then.” As he stepped in front of Sunny to lead the way back towards the lodging house doors, he wondered who in the hell could be out there in the storm. Except maybe one person, but Spot refused to even consider the possibility. He couldn’t be that dense.

They got to the doors, where another birdie, Shiner was waiting for them and gave a little wave as the two other boys approached. Another clap of thunder rolled outside and Spot gestured to the doors.

“We better let whoever it is in before we’s got someone dyin’ of hyper-thermia on our doorstep.” he sighed. Taking ahold of a door handle, Shiner nodded to Spot, then yanked the door open all at once. A flash of lightning lit up the sky, and the figure in the doorway was backlit by the bright white of the electricity. 

And then Racetrack was stumbling into the threshold of the lodging house. 

Sunny slammed the door shut before the pounding rain could blow in; already a damp patch had formed in the short moment it had been open. Spot gave a small shout and grabbed Race around the shoulders. The shorter boy was shivering, his teeth chattering. Now that he was in the soft light of the lamps, Spot could see that Race must be soaked to the bone. His hair was nearly flattened to his head, curling at the ends and dripping. His shirt was plastered to his arms, and his shoes left tiny puddles wherever he took a step.

“Higgins, what are you doing here?” Spot hissed. “You oughta be in Manhattan right now!” Race grinned, hair dripping in his eyes.

“Well then I wouldn’t g-get to be here to say hi, Spotty.” he said, still shivering. 

“Did you walk all the way from the track? Shiner asked, eyes wide. Spot kept his arm around Race as he turned to the other boy and shrugged. 

“I might’ve.” he said, and Spot rolled his eyes. 

“You want me ta get ya anything?” Sunny asked, talking more to Spot than to soggy boy next to him. Before Race could say anything, Spot spoke up.

“I’ve got him, thanks Sunny.” Spot said, steering Race in the direction of the back of the lodging house. “Go help the others with the kids.” Spot let his arm drop from Race’s shoulders, but he kept his hand on the other boy’s arm. Race snorted.

“I got half a m-mind to walk back out inta the storm.” he said. Spot shot him a glare.

“Don’t you dare, Racetrack.” he snapped. 

“Yeah, sure.” Race muttered as Spot led them both towards the stair in the back of the lodging house, the ones that led up to his little room. They skirted the outside of the beds, Race waving to a few concerned looking newsies as they passed. 

When they finally reached the upstairs, Spot half pushed half pulled Race into his room. 

“You coulda let me say hello b-back there.” Race protested. He rubbed his arms and blew into his hands in an effort to warm them, and Spot glared. 

“Not when you look like that.” he said firmly. “Get outta those clothes,” Spot continued when Race scoffed. “You’ll never get dry in them. I’ll go find ya some others.” Spot finished. Race rolled his eyes but Spot saw him start unbuttoning his vest as he closed the door.

For a moment Spot leaned against the closed door and sighed. What the hell was he thinking? Race had never been the best practical thinker, but Spot thought he would have had more sense than this. But here he was, getting rainwater all over the floors and shivering in the room just behind Spot’s back. He shook his head as he headed into the storage room next to his. It was stocked with all kinds of things; mostly excess that didn’t fit in the other storage spaces, but it also held some of the other newsies’ personal things that they wanted kept in someplace safe, and the safest place was next to the king’s room. Spot rummaged through the piles of stuff until he found a couple good blankets that Race could use to get dry and an extra shirt and trousers that looked like they might fit the other boy. 

Spot threw it all over his shoulder and headed back to his room. Before he walked in he knocked on the door.

“Hey Race, you good?” Spot said through the door.

“Yeah, c’mon in.” he said. When he walked in, Race was in the process of hopping out of his pants.

“Jesus christ.” Spot said, pointedly look at anything but Race. He could feel a blush creeping across his face as he held out the blankets and clothes to the other boy. 

“Thanks.” Race said, taking them from Spot’s outstretched hand. Once he was sure Race had at least wrapped himself up in a blanket, Spot turned back to him.

His hair was curlier now, and a bit more disheveled, like he had tried to shake the water out. He had stopped shivering, (at least quite as hard), and was cocooned in the blanket and laughing. Spot frowned.

“What?” he asked. Race shook his head and smiled at him.

“Spot, it’s just me,” he said. “You’ve seen me a thousand times.” Spot scowled and folded his arms, hating that it made his cheeks heat up more. If there was one thing he hated, it was being made fun of. If you got made fun of you got no respect. He knew Race never meant any harm by his joking, but it was a sentiment that was still sticking to Spot. 

“Yeah, well, I… This is different.” Spot protested. Race just laughed again.

“Ok, hold on then, don’t look.” Spot glared at the floor. He listened to Race rustle around until he heard the other boy say “Ok”.

When Spot looked up, Race was wearing pants and his arms were spread out, holding the blanket aside as if to show off what he had done especially for Spot.

“Is that better?” he asked. Spot pouted a little more, just for the hell of it.

“I guess.” he said, and Race laughed again, opening his arms wider as if in an invitation. Spot stepped forward and into Race’s arms, which closed the blanket around the two of them as he clung to Spot. Spot could feel how cold he still was, even through his shirt.

“I’m surprised you didn’t get sick out there.” Spot said. Race shrugged.

“I’ll probably be plenty sick tomorrow.” he said. Spot grinned wickedly.

“Then that’ll be Jack’s problem.” Race smirked.

“Not if you can’t get me to leave.” Spot tried to fire a remark back but Race cut him off with a laugh. 

“I’m kidding,” he said. He winked. “You’ll just have to come visit me.” Spot spluttered for words and Race closed his eyes and laughed again, water from his hair making tracks down his face. Spot finally gave up trying to redeem himself and went back to frowning.

“I guess.” he grumbled. Race smiled.

“Aw gee, I can’t wait.” he teased, leaning forward to give Spot’s lips a quick peck. Spot couldn’t help but smile. He never could stay mad at Race for long. Both of them jumped when thunder crashed outside. Spot shook his head. 

“I can’t believe you walked all the way here out in that.” he said. “For my sake, never do it again.” he pleaded. Race grinned.

“Aw, you do care.” he said. When Spot glared back, Race laughed and said “Ok, Spotty. Don’t have to tell me twice.”

**Author's Note:**

> Second fic I'm ever posting, I'm kinda on the fence about this one. Not my best but definitely not my worst. Thanks for everyone who left comments or kudos on my last fic that was real sweet.


End file.
